


hurricane grip

by puchuupoet



Category: House of Wax (2005), Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Other, voyerism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-04
Updated: 2010-08-04
Packaged: 2017-10-11 17:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/115080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puchuupoet/pseuds/puchuupoet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Much love to <a href="http://playthefool.livejournal.com/profile"><img/></a><a href="http://playthefool.livejournal.com/"><strong>playthefool</strong></a> for looking this over for me ♥ Any mistakes can be blamed on the rum.</p>
    </blockquote>





	hurricane grip

**Author's Note:**

> Much love to [](http://playthefool.livejournal.com/profile)[**playthefool**](http://playthefool.livejournal.com/) for looking this over for me ♥ Any mistakes can be blamed on the rum.

  
The bar's loud and Dean's not nearly drunk enough by this point, but from what he can tell Sam's at least looking like he's enjoying himself, so he marks the night as a success so far. The case is over with, something the local police could have handled if their heads weren't shoved up their asses, but Dean's over it. Fucking hillbillies and their psycho kinks, wax and torture and shit, and Dean had found himself wishing for a wendigo or something to bust in and bring things back to normal.

Dean finishes off his beer, glancing around the bar for Sam, but can't see him anywhere through the smoke and plaid. Sam has a room key and the motel's not too far off, so Dean doesn't feel too bad about leaving him behind here, or wherever it is he's ended up.

He heads towards the back of the bar, following the faded signs pointing to the bathroom. It's what he expected, a single door, the handle broken but Dean can see the chain lock holding it shut. He knocks quickly, doesn't realize he cut his knuckle earlier til it's too late and he's sucking on it when a muffled voice finally calls out, "Occupied."

The voice is familiar and when Dean leans closer he can hear low groans, the quick sound of flesh against flesh and Dean's ears burn when he recognizes it. Those late nights in bed when his back is turned to Sam, hot sticky sounds that make Dean's heart race and leave him groaning into his pillow and grinding into his mattress til Sam finishes with a whimper and Dean has to bite his fist to keep from gasping too loud.

"Sam?" He calls out, loud enough to be heard through the crack. The noises pause, low murmurs til Dean can hear footsteps nearing the door. He steps back when the doorway darkens and a lean body fills it, looking Dean up and down til he answers whoever else is in the room, "Yeah, it's him."

The chain is unhooked, falls against the door with a sharp clatter, and that's what knocks Dean out of his trance. He waits a moment, glancing around him til he feels like no one's staring at him and he slips inside the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind him.

Dean turns around, not fully sure what to expect, and fuck, Sam bent over the chipped porcelain sink wasn't going to be his first guess. Sam's jeans have been pushed down around his thighs, legs spread and Dean can see the lube slick against Sam's skin from where he's braced against the door.

A low cough catches Dean's attention, and when finally looks over at the other guy, he has to blink a couple of times. It's the guy from earlier, Dale or Will or Wade, fuck, that was it, Wade, and Dean has to squint in the low bathroom light, just to make sure the liquor's not fucking with him.

Wade's skinnier than Sammy, just as tall though and Dean thanks whatever god there ends up being that Sam's not dumb enough to go for that fucking facial hair combo Wade has going on. Wade's just smirking at him, pants slung low around his waist and Dean can see Wade's a firm believer in going commando. Dean licks his lips, eyes darting back to Sam's ass and he can hear Wade chuckle.

"You have any idea how happy he is now that you're here?"

Dean bristles at the comment, starts to turn towards Wade until Sammy whimpers, boot sliding a little on the tile floor, spreading his legs apart even further. Wade just smirks at Dean, his hand sliding down his pants to tug his dick out as he walks back over to Sam.

"Where were we now," and Wade reaches out to grab at Sam's hips, pulling him around til Sam's clutching at the corner of the sink and Dean can see everything, how Wade pushes Sam's hip down with one hand and with the other guides his cock to Sam's ass, pausing til Sam's hips are hitching back. The light bulb is strong enough for Dean to see Sam's cock, hard and wanting, Sam flinching every time it brushes up against the cool side of the sink.

Dean groans at the same time Sam does, and while Dean knows he could blame what happens next on the shots, he doesn't, he knows better, his hand snaking down to fumble with his jeans, pushing the fabric out of the way so he can pull his cock out.

He shudders when he finally wraps his hand around himself, palm sticky from spilled beer and there's a thunk when his head falls back against the wooden door.

Dean swears he only blinks for a second, his hand starting to move on his dick, but when he opens his eyes again Wade's bottomed out in Sam, fingers gripping at Sam's hips and Sam's making soft begging noises that shoot straight to Dean's cock.

Dean leans back harder against the door, testing the floor with his boots til he's sure he's not going to fall on his ass and his hand starts to move faster.

He sees Wade lean forward, brush Sam's hair back as he whispers in his ear, and suddenly Sam's looking up, staring at the mirror til his eyes meet Dean's and Dean swears his heart stops as he freezes, unable to drag his gaze from Sam's.

It's almost hit awkward, with Sam staring at him, Dean's jeans falling down as his cock smears precome against his stomach, until Sam's lips start moving, whispers fucked out of him by Wade, louder and louder til Dean realizes Sammy's chanting his name, punctuated by groans and whimpers.

A sharp slap from Wade's hips breaks the moment, has Sam begging out, "Please, Dean..." as his fingers grasp at the curled edge of the sink, and Dean's never been able to say no to Sammy.

His fingers tighten around his cock, and fuck, Sam's still staring at him, body jostling from Wade but his eyes are hard on Dean, and Dean knows Sam's fucking with him when Sam licks his lips, moans out a gasp and that's it, Dean's fucked.

It doesn't take long, Dean already on edge from the hunt and and the alcohol and way too many nights of falling asleep to these sounds slipping from Sam's mouth. He twists his wrist, rougher than usual, the movement making Sam groan. Dean has to close his eyes against it all as he feels his legs start to give, his hips jerking forward as he gets closer.

"Dean," Sam's voice echoes, in the room and in Dean's head, and when he opens his eyes, Sam's staring back at him, face flushed and Dean comes over his fist and jeans.

He's slumped against the floor when he blinks open his eyes, thankful for the crappy light bulb. The tiles are cold against his ass and all he wants is a shower right now. He can hear Wade grunting, picking up speed and Dean shuts his eyes against it. He waits it out, til he can hear low murmurs and a zipper, and that's when he stretches his shoulders out and works on standing up.

Dean can hear the music through the door, the heavy scuff of boots and figures last call is coming up soon. He steps away from the door when Wade gets closer, doesn't know what the fuck to say, just ducks his head as Wade unlocks the door and starts to step out. He pauses though, eyes glancing over Sam, still sprawled over the sink, to land on Dean's face.

"Thanks for saving our asses earlier," he smiles, a quick grasp of Dean's shoulder and then he's gone, slinking out the door and shutting it behind him.

Dean locks it back up, tucking himself in and turning around towards Sam. He hasn't moved, fingers still clutching the sink and Dean can see how hard he still is.

"Sammy," he murmurs, and that's when Sam starts to shift, roll his shoulders back and loosen his grip. One hand stays on the sink, bracing himself as the other grasps at his pants, holding them up. He smiles almost sheepishly at Dean, muttering out a "Hey" as he works his pants up, biting back a groan as he works his cock back into his pants. Once Sam gets the zipper up his pants are tented, and Dean can't keep from glancing down.

"Dean," and this time Sam's practically purring, pressing up against Dean til he's back up against the door, Sam's arms bracketing him in place. "How long have you been watching me, Dean."

Dean chokes on his breath, not ready for this conversation; was never going to be ready, and his head falls back when Sam rolls his hips forward and presses his cock against Dean's leg. "Sammy," he gasps out, but Sam just keeps grinning at him.

" 'm gonna fuck you so hard when we get back to our room you know," Sam murmurs against Dean's ear, his hand dropping down to curve around Dean's ass and Dean shudders at that first touch, blindly reaching out to grab at the door handle. Sam chuckles at him, unlocks the door and guides Dean out, fingers barely brushing against the small of Dean's back. Each touch is electric, and Dean can't stop himself from stopping suddenly, feeling Sam stumble into him, hot and hard and Dean rolls his hips against Sam's, drawing out a moan from both of them.

"Keep doing that and I'm fucking you over the hood," Sam grins at him, eyes full of promise and something else, and Dean whimpers, glad that the music is overpowering their conversation.

"Hotel first," Dean manages to get out, hopes the low light hides his flush as he jangles the car keys, moving towards the exit. "Then you can pick."


End file.
